Nathan stared down at his venti white chocolate mocha with double shots of caramel syrup, just the way he liked it. It wasn’t something he got often because it was rare to have five dollars to spend on a cup of coffee for him, but he knew Paris had money and he was going to be an asshole and milk him for it. Paris deserved it anyway.
Paris came over with his grande chai tea and sat next to Nathan on the chocolate brown velveteen sofa. There was plenty of space between them, but Nate was still uncomfortable with the proximity.
“How’s your drink?” asked Paris nervously.
“Perfect.” Nathan replied.
Paris nodded and swallowed like he didn’t know what to say, but desperately wanted to say something, “I’m sorry about the other day. I never meant for anything like that to happen.”
“Well, it did,” was all Nate said in reply.
Paris was silent and slowly looked at Nate’s face, “Why did you cut your hair and get new clothes and stuff?”
Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, “Because it was something I needed to do.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t,” Nathan said shortly, “All of my life I’ve waited for someone to tell me I’m pretty. That’s all I really wanted and when you did... I didn’t need to look pretty anymore. There was no point in just looking pretty for the sake of looking pretty. I’d gotten what I wanted and it was time to be something different, something real.”
Paris was glaring down at his hands, “And I did all of that?”
“No,” said Nate, “I did all of that. You were just an extra. You helped make the big picture look real and help me figure out what I needed to do.” He took a sip of his mocha and stared out the window.
“Ok, so we have figured out what is going on with you; now we have to figure out what’s going on with us.”
Nate frowned and turned to him, “Us? There is no ‘us’, Paris.”
“I know,” Paris replied, “But I want there to be an ‘us’. I want to be with you.”
Nathan was completely dumbstruck.
“When I kissed you,” Paris said carefully, “I felt things I’ve never felt before with anyone. And I liked those feelings and I want them back. The only way I see that happening is if I’m with you. I can see myself falling in love with you, if you’ll let me, and I know I can make you happy if you just give me a chance...”
“No, Paris,” Nathan’s replied was short and cold.
“Could you please just think about it?”
Nathan turned to him, “Paris, no. You seem to forget slamming me into a wall. I have bruises on my back. If you could hurt me then, what would stop you from hurting me when we’re in a relationship? And what makes you think I’m gay?”
“I won't hurt you, I promise. I’ll go to anger management classes or something if you don’t believe me! And in case it’s not obvious, I’m not gay either, I only want to be with you.” With that he leaned over and placed a soft, chaste kiss on Nathan’s lips, “Please just let me love you. I want to love someone and I think you’re the only one I can....”
“Being a little melodramatic?” Nate asked, pushing him away gently. “You have to prove it before I’ll start dating you. That means helping me with the stupid English project, not letting your friends pick on me now that (thanks to you) the entire school thinks I’m queer, and not sleeping with every girl that looks at you sideways.”
“I’ll do it,” Paris said without a pause.
Nate sighed, “Paris, it won’t be easy. You’ve got a lot to prove.”
Paris just grinned, “I know. And I will.”